What Lies Beneath
by letmefallasleep
Summary: Tig/Gemma friendship, pre-SOA. "So I'll find what lies beneath your sick and twisted smile." Title from Breaking Benjamin. Rated T for child abuse, and some language.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Alright, so this is my opinion on Tig's life before SOA, and his relationship with Gemma. His background is never really mentioned, but I read somewhere that he was a Charming native, so I'm going with that. I know I have another Tig story going, but it's just not working out the way I wanted, so I'm gonna pull it down, and focus on this one. If this gets a few good reviews, I'll carry it on. The first half is gonna focus on Tig and Gemma, maybe with a little bit of Wayne Uncer thrown in (he's the only other Charming native from that generation), then the second half will take place shortly after Gemma comes back to Charming with JT after the creation of the Sons. I figure about ten chapters max, so relatively short. Again, if you like, please leave a review, even if it's just 'like', because I'm not gonna waste my time continuing a story that gets one or two reviews a chapter.

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><p>Thirteen year old Gemma Maddock was nearly asleep when she heard the quiet tapping on her window.<p>

Groggily, she threw the covers off, and stumbled over to the window, throwing it open, and sticking her head out.

"Alex, what the hell are you doing? It's two o'clock in the morning!" She hissed, glancing around for her best friend. "Oh my God, Alex, what happened?"

Fifteen year old Alex Trager came into the dim light shining through the window, his face beaten, and bloody. Gemma helped him through the window, before going over and locking her door quietly.

"Sit on the bed, Alex," She ordered, moving into her attached bathroom, and grabbing her first aid kit that she kept solely for this purpose. Grabbing the roll of toilet paper as well, she strode back into the bedroom, where Alex was sitting uneasily on the edge of her bed.

In the light, she could see that it was worse than it'd looked at first glance. His nose was still bleeding, his lip was misshapen, and the entire left side of his face had practically been beaten raw.

"Jesus, Alex. What happened?"

The young man tried smiling at her, but the look was grotesque, and he quickly gave up, and settled on a shrug. "Same thing as always."

Gemma snorted, as she tenderly rubbed alcohol on the side of his face, forcing herself to ignore his pained hiss. "What, the beer not cold enough?"

Alex glared at her, but the effect was only half-assed due to only having one eye that wasn't swollen shut. "Shut up, Gemma. It's not a big deal."

"Really, Alex? Look at you! Let me guess: it's not just your face either, is it? Don't lie to me, Alex… I'm not in the mood, I'm really not. I've got two tests tomorrow, Alex. Two! What the hell are you doing?" She snapped, as Alex tried standing up.

"I'm leavin'. Wouldn't wanna… 'inconvenience' you, Gemma," Alex snapped, head held high, but Gemma could see the slight quiver of his chin.

She rolled her eyes, as she pushed him back down. "Don't be stupid, Trager. That's not what I meant, and you know it. I meant, I don't have all night to force answers out of you, so just tell me where you hurt. None of that 'macho man' crap, you hear me?"

Alex sighed, and his head drooped again. "I uh… My ribs, and uh… my wrist is pretty sore," He mumbled, staring at the floor.

Gemma sighed. "Not much I can do for your ribs. You're just gonna have to take it easy for a few days. But I can wrap up your wrist. Give me your arm," She ordered, pulling his sleeve up as he obeyed. She stared for a moment, forcing herself to keep her stomach from heaving at the sight.

"Alex… This looks like… Jesus, did they… Is this…" She paused, unable to continue as she stared at the thick black bruises, and thin line of blood encircling his wrist.

"Doesn't matter, babe," Alex whispered, turning his head towards the wall. Gemma purposefully ignored the single tear that made its way down his bruised face, as she gently wrapped a few layers of gauze around his wrist, wincing at his sharp intake of breathe when she tied it off.

"Alex…"

"Gemma, don't. Please," He asked softly. "Just… don't."

Gemma bit her lip as she nodded. "Alright," She said softly. "Alright, Alex. Come on."

She climbed onto the other side of the bed, and pulled him down next to her, before pulling the blankets up over the two of them. She carefully tucked him in, and reached over for the light on the night stand, when Alex's pleading voice stopped her.

"Leave it on. Please," He begged.

"Alright. I'll just turn it low, alright?" She reached over and clicked the switch twice, in effect, turning it into a nightlight, before lightly pressing herself against his back, and wrapping her arms around him.

She held him tightly, humming a lullaby into his ear, as he slowly began to shake from tears, before they both finally fell into a fitful sleep.

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><p>They had known each other since elementary school. Gemma had been in kindergarten, while Alex had been in first grade when they first met on the playground. A group of children had been teasing Alex about his ratty clothes, and his black eye, when five year old Gemma had stepped in. That day was the first day she shared her lunch with him, although over the years, it would become a habit.<p>

She was almost nine when she finally figured out why her best friend –her only friend, really –was constantly covered in cuts and bruises. Why he missed so many days of school, or why he was always starving whenever she saw him. It had been at one of those stupid school assembly things that seemed to be going on every day. All about 'children's rights'. The woman –an elderly lady, who had a gentle smile –talked about how sometimes parents did bad things. How sometimes they hit their children, even though it wasn't right.

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><p>"Where the hell are you goin'?"<p>

Gemma looked up in surprise at Alex, who had a death grip on her arm. "I'm goin' to talk to Mrs. Halloway," She said quickly, trying to pull away, only to have Alex tug her back again.

"I don't think so," He hissed.

"But, Alex… If it's your parents that… that do that to you, she can help!" Gemma pleaded. "She can make them not do that anymore! I mean, that is what's goin' on, isn't it?" As the older boy stared coldly, she yanked her arm away. "I'm gonna talk to her."

She yelped when she felt him grab her hair, as he yanked her back, hard. "Alex, what're you doing?"

"Gemma, you can't tell anyone! You can't say anything, do you understand?" He said angrily. "It'll only be worse if you do."

"But –"

"Gemma, please! She can't help me! You think I haven't tried before?"

"Ms. Maddock… Mr. Trager. Is there a problem here?"

Both children spun around –Alex quickly releasing his grip on Gemma's hair –and found themselves face to face with the principal.

"No, Principal Hunsinger," Gemma said sweetly, crossing her hands in front of her as she put on her best smile. "Alex was just keeping me from falling. I tripped, and he tried to grab me… It was my fault really. I'm so clumsy," She said with a giggle. "I'd rather he pull my hair a little bit than the bruise I'd get if I fell."

Principal Hunsinger glared down at Alex. "Is that so. Mr. Trager, is that what happened?"

Alex shifted from foot to foot. "Yeah. Yeah, that's what happened. I was tryin' to grab her dress, but I missed."

The principal huffed, before turning his attention back to Gemma. "Ms. Maddock, do try and be more careful. Are you going to speak to Mrs. Halloway?"

Gemma opened her mouth, and went to speak…

And then she seen the scared, pleading look on Alex's face.

"No, sir," She said finally. "I was just going 'cause my friends were."

" 'Because', Ms. Maddock. And if you don't have any questions for the speaker, then you need to head to the cafeteria for lunch. Understood? That goes for you too, Mr. Trager."

"Yes, sir," They said in unison, scuttling away from the tall man.

"Thank you, Gemma," Alex said quietly as they founded the corner of the hallway.

"Don't thank me yet, Alex. You better give me a good explanation, or I'm going right back. I even copied down that phone number she gave us. See?" She said smugly, holding up her hand to show him the number she'd written down. "So let's talk."

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><p>The two children sat outside on top of the monkey bars, each waiting for the other to begin speaking. Finally, Gemma cleared her throat.<p>

"Was I right, Alex? Do your parents… do they hit you?" She asked quietly.

Alex snorted, looking at his hands, as he said, "They do a lot more than just hit me, Gemma."

"Then why didn't you let me talk to Mrs. Halloway? She said she could help!"

"Because she can't help, Gemma!" Alex said angrily. "None of 'em can help! You think I haven't tried?" He swiped at his face furiously, trying unsuccessfully to hide his tears. "I tried talkin' to the principal, I tried talking to my teacher… The principal didn't do anything, and all the teacher did was call my mom. I got home that night, and her boyfriend broke my jaw, Gemma. That's what happens when people try to 'help' me," He whispered defeatedly, his shoulders slumping. "It only makes it worse."

Gemma reached over and hugged him as best she could while trying to maintain her balance. "So what do I do, Alex? How can I stop them from hurting you?"

"You can't, Gemma. There's nothing you can do. Or nothing you can do that won't make it worse for me. That's why you can't tell anybody. Not like they'll believe you anyways."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I'm a problem kid. Nobody cares what happens to me. If George or my mom killed me tonight, nobody would even notice. Nobody would care. Hell, half of 'em would probably think I deserved it."

He nearly fell off the monkey bars when Gemma's small hand smacked him across the face.

"Don't you say that, Alex Trager! _I_ care! _I_ would notice! You're my best friend in the whole world! I'd never be happy again if something happened to you!"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Alright so... Yeah, started this, never went anywhere with it, and now I'm posting a fairly short chapter for it... feel free to throw rocks and sticks. : (

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><p>Rose Maddock frowned as she heard her daughter's bedroom window open above Rose's own bedroom, and the quiet sound of footsteps crossing the floor.<p>

Lying next to her, her husband Nate sighed. "Let it go, Rose."

"It's not right, Nathan. I didn't approve of it while they were younger, but Gemma's a young lady now. Like the neighbors don't have enough to gossip about; imagine what they'll say when they find out that that… that little hooligan is sneaking into our daughter's room!"

"Rose, I said, let it go," Nate said quietly.

"But it's –"

"Rose, our daughter is the only friend –the only comfort –that boy has. Now you may be willing to turn a blind eye to what goes on at Alex's home for the 'sake of appearance', but I'm not. You know as well as I do that the stories he tells us are lies. George Britton beats that boy bloody, and everybody in this damn town ignores it –except for our daughter."

Rose huffed a little as she switched off the bedside light. "We'll see if you feel that way when our daughter ends up pregnant, and unwed."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Rose! She's eleven! And the Trager boy would die before doing anything that would hurt Gemma. He looks at her like his younger sister." He held up a hand, cutting his wife off before she could speak. "I won't hear another word about it, Rose. Go to sleep."

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><p><em>The next evening<em>

Thirteen year old Alex grunted as George's steel-toed boot caught him in the ribs. He managed to roll himself just enough so that the next blow only hit his thigh, as he scrambled away from his step-father, struggling to try and get to his feet.

"Don't you ever, ever lip off to me, Boy! Do you fuckin' understand me?" George roared, for what seemed like the thousandth time, grabbing Alex by the hair, and yanking him to his knees.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Alex knew he should just stay still. Not aggravate the old man any further. But he couldn't help it.

As George began dotting his face with punches, Alex managed to bring one leg around enough to swing it into George, catching him in the shin, knocking the old man over, and loosening his grip on Alex's hair enough that Alex was able to yank himself free.

As he tried scrambling away, tried moving towards the door, he heard his step-father's angry screaming coming towards him. As something heavy crashed down on his head, he had the brief, fleeting thought, that pissing George off more probably hadn't been the smartest idea he'd ever had.

Then he didn't have any thoughts at all.

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><p>"Alex? Alex, you in there?"<p>

Alex groaned, reality smashing into him like a load of bricks, as Gemma's voice penetrated through the fog surrounding his brain.

"Alex?"

"Ge… Gemma," He whispered, his voice hoarse, and head pounding. "Gemma!"

"Oh my God, Alex! What happened?"

"Ow, ow! Careful! Careful," He wheezed, feeling Gemma's small hands sliding underneath him, trying to flip him over onto his back. "Agh, Jesus, Gemma! Stop! Stop!"

Instantly, he felt her pull her hands back. "Sorry! I'm sorry, Alex!"

"It's fine. It's… Ah, Christ… Oh shit, I lied. I lied, Gemma, it's not okay. It's…" He groaned again. "Shit, it's not okay."

He heard Gemma's sharp intake of breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was back under control. "Alright. Tell me what you want me to do, Trager."

Alex moaned as he tried rolling himself over, giving up after only a few seconds. "I dunno. Christ, Gemma, I… I'm hurt bad, Gemma."

Gemma hesitated for a moment, before leaning down close to him. "Alex, I'm real sorry, alright?"

"Sorry for wh –Agh! Jesus Christ!" He cursed, as Gemma rolled him over. "Shit! What the…" He trailed off, tears rolling down his cheeks, as Gemma's face appeared over him.

"I'm sorry, Alex, but I gotta see how –" She cut off sharply, and her face disappeared from view again.

"Gemma? Gemma, what's… What's wrong?"

"Alex… Alex, I'm gonna go get my daddy," Came Gemma's quiet reply.

"What? Like hell you are! Don't you dare, Gemma!"

"I'm sorry, Alex, but… this is bad. You gotta go to the hospital." Already Alex could hear her moving closer and closer to the door. "I'll be back as soon as I can alright?"

"Gemma! Gemma, you little bitch, don't you dare! Gemma! Get back here! Gemma! _Gemma_!"

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><p>Gemma raced back out of the house, barely taking time to seat herself on her bike, as she flew towards her house, a few miles up the road. As she skidded to a stop in front of the house, she tripped, and fell, smashing her face against the loose gravel of the driveway.<p>

Without stopping, she forced herself to her feet, and bolted into the house.

"Dad! Daddy!" She cried, tearing through the house. "Dad!"

"I'm in the garden, honey!" Came Nate's calm voice. "C'mon out."

"Dad –"Gemma stopped short, struggling to catch her breath.

Nate took one look at her face, and stood, carefully stepping out of his rose garden, and grabbing his daughter by the chin, gently prodding at the scraps and cuts. "Gemma, what happened?" He demanded quietly. "You fall off your bike again?"

"Yes, but… Alex… Daddy you gotta… gotta come… help him," She panted, grabbing the hand holding her face, and tugging her father towards the house. "He's… hurt bad…"

"Alright, Gemma, alright. Calm down. Let me grab my truck keys, and we'll drive over, alright? Are his parents home?" Nate asked, pushing her towards the front door.

Gemma shook her head, jumping into the old tan pickup truck. "No, I was just there, but… He's hurt real bad, daddy. I think he's gonna have to go to the hospital."

Nate nodded as he started the truck, and began pulling out of the driveway. "Let's just see when we get there, okay? We'll do whatever we can, but let's not start panicking yet. He's probably fine, just needs a few days of R&R, alright?"

Gemma shook her head. "Dad, he's bad. I've seen him hurt a little, but this is… it's just bad," She finished quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Alright, so very short chapter, forgive me, just getting back into the swing of things again. Y'all have K. Hotlzman to thank for that by the way. But, as with Black Dahlia, I can't promise updates will be frequent, but I'm going to do my best. Just give me a little bit of leeway here... It's been a while since I've even attempted to right.

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><p>A steady beeping sound was the first thing Alex was aware of as he became self-aware again.<p>

The next thing he heard was a low, pain filled groan.

"Alex?"

That groan again. Was that him?

"Alex? Can you hear me?"

"Alex, if you can hear us, son, I need you to try and open your eyes."

That _was_ him groaning, but he still forced one eye open. A large, white haired man was leaning over him, shining a light in his eye.

"Cut… cut it… out." What the hell was wrong with his voice?

"Alright, Alex… my name is Dr. Wilkinson. Do you know where you are?"

Alex tried shaking his head, but groaned again at the pain that lanced through his entire body at the motion. "No," He croaked, closing his eye again.

"Alright. You're in the hospital. Do you know how you got here?"

Pain shot through him as he tried to think. But he got a brief flash of…

"Gemma," He moaned. "Where's… Gemma?"

"Ms. Maddox and her father brought you here two days ago. You've been pretty out of it. But I was more interested in what happened that caused you to be brought here, Alex."

What… His head was pounding. Thinking was like trying swim in peanut butter. 'Caused him to be brought'?

"Wha -… What does that… that mean?"

"My son is confused… Tired. Can't this wait?"

"Mrs. Trager, please. I vehemently opposed you being here in the first place, but according to California State law, I can't stop you. But if you continue to try and speak for my patient, I will have you removed. Forcibly, if necessary. Do I make myself clear, Mrs. Trager?"

Mrs. Trager?

"Mom?" Alex tried turning his head, to see his mother. "Mom, are… you here?"

"I'm here, baby. Just take it easy, alright? We'll get you patched up, and you'll be out of here in no time."

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><p>"Gemma… Do you realize the severity of what you're saying?"<p>

Nate grasped his daughter's arm, as she went to stand. He gave her the 'look', before turning his gaze back to the police officer.

"Look, Officer Uncer. All due respect here, but you can ask your own boy what's going on. I'm sure Wayne has seen the boy. Hell,_ I've_ seen the boy. Even if you doubt my daughter, _I'm_ telling you that that boy's parents are abusing him. He's in the hospital because of George Hodgins."

Darryl Uncer sighed, as he leaned back in his chair. "Look, Nate… What I've got right now is your daughter saying Alex has told her that his step-daddy beats him, and you saying you know, but you've never seen anything.

"And then, on the other hand, I've got George and Jenny saying they weren't home at the time, and Alex has been having problems with older boys at school."

Nate leaned forward. "Wait a minute… Their excuse is they left the boy alone for days, a couple older boys broke in, beat the hell out of him, and that's an acceptable alternative for you? What the hell are you trying to pull, Darryl?"

"I'm not sure I appreciate your tone, Nate. The boy is thirteen, so he's well old enough to be left alone. He's a known trouble-maker, and fight-starter. Hell, I've already got fourteen incident reports about the boy starting fights, and that's just in the past two years. So why should I believe the word of an eleven year old girl, over the boy's parents, and my own police work, hm?"

This time, Nate couldn't stop his daughter's outburst.

"Because it's the truth, Officer Uncer! I've been patching Alex up since I was nine! George –Mr. Hodgins –drinks, and then he hurts Alex! And honestly, you can't expect Mr. Hodgins to just… _admit_ what he did! Of course he's going to lie about it!" Gemma exclaimed, green eyes flashing angrily as she stood.

Darryl glanced over at Nate. "Nate, I thought you would have raised your girl better than to be disrespectful of her elders," The older man said dismissively, clearly ignoring Gemma.

Nate gave him a hard smile, as he too stood. "No, Darryl. I raised my daughter to speak the truth, and to stand up for what's right." He turned to Gemma, and wrapped her small hand in his own. "C'mon, honey. Let's go check on Alex."

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><p>"Gemma…"<p>

Gemma looked up at her daddy, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, daddy. I know I shouldn't a spoke to the police officer like that. But… It ain't right, daddy," She said, hating her quivering lip, and the warble in her voice.

She was surprised when her father knelt down next to her, right there in the parking lot of the police station, and pulled her into a hug.

"Gemma, honey… I've never been more proud of you," Her father said slowly, pulling back a little, to stare her in the eye.

"But… I back-talked an adult. And a police officer," She said, confused.

"Gemma, I didn't teach you not to back-talk. I taught you respect. Now, I will admit, you got a little loud. But you spoke the truth, and you stuck to your guns, even though you knew you might get in trouble. And for that, honey… I've never been more proud of you."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Yay for two chapters in two days! I rocketh! Anyways, the next chapter will jump ahead a little bit. Also... I hope y'all appreciate my little plug about Tig's reactions to *ahem* certain events that many people are complaining about. Anyone who's seen the latest episodes, or been on the IMDB boards will know what I mean. :D

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><p>"Gemma, why don't you go in and see Alex while I talk to the doctor?" Nate suggested, stopping in front of the young boy's room.<p>

"Is his mama still her?" Gemma asked angrily. " 'Cause elder or not, I wanna knock her teeth out, daddy."

Nate bit back a smile, forcing himself to give his daughter a stern look. "Gemma, Mrs. Trager is an elder, and she's a woman. And we don't settle arguments with our fists, remember? We settle them with our words, and our intelligence."

"But in answer to your question, Gemma," The doctor interrupted, "No, Mrs. Trager isn't in there. She went home a little while ago. Alex might be sleeping now, though. If he is, you need to let him rest."

Gemma nodded, and practically bolted into the room.

Nate sighed, as he sank into a chair. "Kids. Sometimes, I think we older folk could all take a lesson or two from them," He said with a chuckle.

The doctor smiled, and chuckled along. "True. That's a special girl you got there, Mr. Maddock."

"Don't I know it. How's the boy doing?"

The doctor sighed, folding his hands across his chest as he leaned back in the chair, a weary look on his face.

"It's not good, Mr. Maddock."

"Nate, please," Nate interrupted.

"Alright then, Nate. To put it simply? The boy's in bad shape. Oh, I'm not saying young Mr. Trager is going to die," He hurried, seeing the panicked look on Nate's face. "He _will_ recover from this. But there will be lasting side effects. Again, to put it simply, the boy's skull was severely damaged. I would postulate that 'somebody' stomped on his head –repeatedly. From what we can tell, the boy's frontal lobe was seriously damaged in the process. The frontal lobe is the part of the brain that controls impulses, showed emotions, among various other lasting side effects.

"His right arm –his dominant arm –was broken in three different places. The end result of that is, his right arm will always be weaker, due to the stress placed on a bone that was injured so seriously. It will always be at risk for re-breaking. Four broken ribs are going to lay him up for quite a while; any more damage to those, and it could be fatal. With rib fractures, there's always a risk of a fragment of that bone hitting a vital organ.

"Also, due to what I would assume was a steel-toed boot to the hip, Alex's hip bone was chipped. We removed the bone fragment during surgery, but in my educated opinion, I would say the boy will probably have a limp from here on out."

Nate was frowning, as he asked, "What a minute; what do you mean by 'showed emotions'?"

The doctor sighed, rubbing one hand down his face. "Basically, Nate… It means that the boy will always have trouble expressing his emotions. He'll still feel them; those emotions won't 'go away'. But… For example. He may be happy, over the moon with joy, but he won't smile. As near as we can tell, the frontal lobe… connects, for lack of a better term, the emotions to the part of the brain that expresses those same emotions."

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><p>Alex was drifting. Almost floating. Or swimming. The pain was a distant memory, far away from his drifting.<p>

"Alex?"

_Drifting… Floating… Swimming…_

"Alex, can you hear me?"

_Gemma._

_Gemma?_

_Floating…_

Gemma scrubbed her face fiercely, trying to keep herself from crying, as she stared at the battered body of her best –her only –friend. He looked so… so fragile. So broken.

"Alex… I told the police what your step-daddy does to you. And… and you were right," She said angrily, as a new wave of tears struggled to escape. "They didn't listen to me. I don't know what to do, Alex. I don't know how to help you," She sobbed, unable to hold the tears back any longer. She grasped his unbroken hand, and laid her head on it. "I'm sorry, Alex. I thought… I thought maybe if I… if I had said something sooner? Maybe this wouldn't have happened. But it didn't matter. I'm trying to help you and… and you're right, nobody else cares. Everything I do just… it just seems to make it worse. I just don't know what to do anymore."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Alright so this is a little rough; I'll go back through and smooth it out later. I'm trying to keep going on these, otherwise I know I'll just stop writing all together again lol. o. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing.

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><p>"Gemma?"<p>

Fifteen year old Gemma barely bit back a scream, seeing the shadowy figure in the corner of her room.

"Jesus Christ, Alex!" She exclaimed, breathing heavily. "Would it have killed you to knock?!" Even as she spoke, she was climbing out of bed, and moving towards him. "You okay?"

He pushed her hands away from his face gently. "I'm fine, Gemma," He said woodenly. "You uh… You might wanna sit down."

Gemma obeyed hesitantly, not liking the tone in her friend's voice. "Alex, what the hell is going on?" She demanded. "Are you alright?"

Alex sighed as he sat on the floor, resting his head on the side of her leg. Instinctively, Gemma began running her fingers through his long curly hair, causing him to sigh again, closing his eyes as he slowly began to relax. Sitting like that brought back so many memories. Memories that only made it harder to say what he had to say.

"Gemma… I'm leavin', honey."

Instantly, her hand stopped moving. "What?"

"I'm leavin'."

"Leaving?! Where the hell are you going?! Why?!" She demanded, standing up, and storming over to the window. "Why now?! Where the hell are you gonna go?! You can't just up and '_leave'_, Trager!"

"Gemma… I talked to a recruiter today. Marines. I'm shipping out on Wednesday."

Gemma froze. "Wednesday? As in 'the day after tomorrow' Wednesday? Wait a minute, what am I saying. Alex, you're too _young_ to join the Marines."

Alex shrugged as he stretched his feet out in front of him, leaning his head back against the bed. "I lied," He said simply.

"You…" Gemma stared at him incredulously. "You lied?! Alex, they'll send you to 'Nam, you stupid shit!" She swore, throwing one of her stuffed animals at his head.

Alex's face remained blank. "Probably."

" 'Probably'? 'Probably'?! Alex, you could get killed, you… you…" She stopped, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

If he had a heart, Alex was pretty sure it would be breaking. As it was, he felt a… twinge… of remorse. It looked like _Gemma's_ heart was breaking, that was for sure.

Painfully, feeling a dull ache in his leg, and the pulling on his bruised and battered ribs, he pulled himself off the floor, and pulled her into a hug.

"Babe… I'll be fine, alright? Hell, if I can survive seventeen years of my ma's crazy boyfriends, Vietnam should be a walk in the park," He said, forcing a smirk to his face.

He was a little shocked when Gemma's open palm swatted him across the face.

"That's not fucking funny, Alex!" She sobbed, raining blows down on his chest with her small fists, tears still streaming down her face. "That's not… that's…"

He let her vent for a few moments, before she finally collapsed against him.

"Gemma… Babe… I can't stay anymore," He said, pulling her with him over to the bed. "If… If George or my ma…" He inhaled softly. "They found my breaking point tonight, Gem. If I stay here… I'm gonna do something that's gonna land me in jail. And if I go in… I ain't comin' back out," He said quietly, head hanging as he studiously avoided meeting her eyes.

"Alex… You could come here. You could stay with me. Or hell, you know enough about cars; you could get a job as a mechanic, or even at the factory. We… we could maybe get… a house, or something together," She babbled. "We could just… go. Together. You don't have to join the Marines to get out of here. I've got some money saved up, it'd be enough to –"

"Gemma. Stop," He interrupted quietly. "Don't go there."

"But –"

"Don't, Gemma. You got too much to throw it all away on somebody like me. You know it, and I know it. This is how it's gotta be."

He paused, licking his lips as he moved towards the window. "This uh… This is gonna be it, alright? I'm goin' straight from here to San Diego. No point in hangin' around here. Figure I'll catch a bus down there."

He didn't –he couldn't- wait for a response. He simply hoisted himself back out the window.

And just like that… He was gone.

* * *

><p>"Gemma… You have to get out of the house," Rose said sternly, frowning at her only child. "It's not good for you to be cooped up in here all the time."<p>

It had been six months since that damn Trager boy had vanished. Joined the Marines, was the local gossip. Rose doubted it; the boy wasn't cut out for the Marines. He was a damn hoodlum, is what he was. A more likely story was, he was in jail somewhere, and Jenny Trager just didn't want to admit what a little screw-up her son was.

But wherever the boy had vanished to, Gemma had been moping about it ever since he'd disappeared. And Rose had had just about enough of it.

"Gemma, are you listening to me?!" She demanded curtly, stepping closer to Gemma.

Gemma never looked away from the window. "Yes, mama," She said dully. "I'm listening."

"Good. Then hear this: that boy was no good. A trouble-maker. A menace. And I won't tolerate one more day of you moping about after him, do you understand me?"

For the first time in six months, Gemma became alive. Her green eyes flashed angrily as she stood toe to toe with her mother.

"Don't you dare say that, mama," the younger girl seethed. "Alex was a good man."

Rose scoffed. "Oh of course. That explains why he was sneaking into your bedroom window for six years."

"That was –" Gemma's response was cut off by the doorbell ringing. Both women continued to glare at each other for a few moments. The doorbell rang again.

"This isn't over, mama," Gemma said darkly, moving towards the door.

Rose followed, determined to make her daughter see reason.

Neither one were expecting the two military men standing on the front porch. Rose wasn't sure who was more surprised, her or her daughter.

"Excuse me, we're looking for Miss Gemma Maddock?"

Gemma drew back, horror on her face. Seeing her daughter's frozen state, Rose stepped forward.

"I'm Rose Maddock. This is my daughter Gemma. Can I ask what this is about?"

"Ma'am?" The man with more colors on his chest asked, directing his question towards Gemma. "Are you Miss Maddock?"

Gemma finally managed a nod.

"Miss Maddock… It's with great regret that we must inform you that Alexander Trager went missing on the night of October 5th, and has been officially listed as MIA," The man said softly. "I'm proud to say that I was PFC Trager's commanding officer, and that… It was a privilege to serve with him. The Marines suffered a great loss the day we lost him."

"Wait a minute," Rose interrupted loudly. "Why are you telling my daughter this? Why aren't you telling his parents?" She demanded.

The man looked over her unsurely. "Ma'am, PFC Trager listed your daughter as his next of kin. According to the paperwork he filled out, his parents are dead."

A heart rending scream erupted. It took Rose a few minutes to realize it was coming from her daughter, who had fallen to her knees on the floor. Rose went to move towards her, when the man beat her to it, dropping down next to Gemma, and taking his hand in hers.

"I'm sorry, Miss Maddock. Alex Trager was a good man, and good marine. He spoke about you all the time, about his girl back home. About how he was going to use the money he was making to marry you. I can't tell you how sorry I am for your loss."

Major Andrews held the girl's hand until she finally stopped crying.

After a few more minutes, she finally looked up at him. "What happened?" She asked hoarsely. "Is there any chance that he's…" She trailed off, unable to actually say the words.

Andrews sighed, shaking his head as he helped the young girl into a chair. "I'm sorry, Miss Maddock. PFC Trager was out on patrol with three others when they were ambushed by the North Vietnamese. There was only one survivor."

"But… but you said he was MIA. Not KIA, but MIA," The girl said fiercely, tears appearing in her eyes again.

Andrews couldn't meet her piercing gaze, as he replied, "The NVA dropped a mortar round on their heads, Miss Maddock. We don't expect to find any bodies."

Finally, the mother stepped in, firmly pushing Andrews back. "I'm sorry, but this has nothing to do with my daughter," She said haughtily. "The boy's parents live down the road a few miles; it's the white farmhouse, with a paneled station wagon in the front yard. I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Andrews ignored her, as he grasped Gemma's hand again. "Miss Maddock… It was an honor knowing Alex Trager. He was a hero. And he loved you," He said quietly, before turning to the chaplain, and taking the small box from him. "These are his personal effects. Again… I'm sorry for your loss, Miss Maddock."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Alright so... Sorry for the length, the choppiness, the general awkwardness... But as I said in _Ridin' Through This World_... I'm afraid if I don't keep plugging away, I'll stop again, and never start again. So y'all are just gonna kind of have to bear with me while I struggle through this. I appreciate everyone who's stuck with this, even through the thousands of hiatuses, the choppiness, etc, etc.

* * *

><p>Three years later<p>

Nate was working in the garden when it happened. The last thing he'd ever expected.

Well… Maybe the second to last thing.

"Mr. Maddock?"

Nate didn't look up from his lemon balm, as he answered, "You know, it's not polite to come into a stranger's backyard without permission."

"I'm not exactly a stranger, Mr. Maddock."

There was something eerily familiar about that voice. Ignoring his aching knees, Nate pushed himself to his feet, brushing off his hands before he turned towards the voice.

Thank God he had a strong heart, because the sight of young Alex Trager standing before him nearly gave him a heart attack.

"Alex?" Nate said hoarsely, hesitantly stepping forward, hand outstretched, as if to touch him, to make sure he was really there.

But Alex drew back; it was barely perceptible, but suddenly he was just out of Nate's reach. That was when Nate really took the boy in.

While it looked like Alex Trager, Nate still hesitated. He was –if Nate figured correctly –a few months past his twentieth birthday, but he looked like he was in his late thirties. Wrinkles had appeared on his forehead, and in the corners of his lips. He held himself as if he was in pain, and Nate could see a few scars trailing down the boy's neck, and on his face.

"Is that really you?"

"Uh… Yeah. It's uh… Good to see you again, Mr. Maddock," The boy –no, the man, Nate reminded himself –said unsurely.

"But you… We got the news about… You were MIA," Nate said slowly. "It's been three years, Alex."

Alex looked off into the distance, his eyes going blank for a moment, before he blinked rapidly a few times, and pulled his gaze back to Nate.

"I uh… I was uh… POW. I… I escaped. 'Bout three months ago. Been in the hospital getting patched up. I uh… I sent telegrams, and letters, but…" His voice trailed off, and Nate sighed.

"We got the letters, but we didn't know who they were from," He explained, indicating for Alex to follow him over to the bench. "Didn't seem right reading them."

"So… she never even opened them?"

At the crushed tone in the younger man's voice, Nate sighed. "Alex… She's not here."

"Where is she?" Came the harsh, instant reply. "What happened?"

"About two months after she heard that you'd gone missing, and were presumed dead, she just… Rose went into her room one morning, and she was gone. Most her clothes, a few stuffed toys, and all the money she had saved were gone. We haven't heard from her since."

* * *

><p>"Gemma! Order up!"<p>

Nineteen year old Gemma groaned, and swung around quickly, moving towards the kitchen. She glanced down at the food on the counter in front of her, and groaned again.

"Billy, it was fried eggs, with bacon, and pancakes with sausage," She said impatiently, tapping her foot, hands on her hips.

A string of muttered cursing followed, and the plates were pulled back down. She turned, and headed back into the diner.

"Gemma! Table seven!" Linda called out from the counter.

"Does it ever stop?!" Gemma mumbled, taking a deep breath as she headed towards the back of the café. She paused as she seen the two men sitting there.

They were rough looking. Glancing out the window, she realized they were bikers, and that that had been the loud noise she'd heard only a few minutes ago. But what startled her more was the USMC tattoos on the two men's arms.

"Mornin' ma'am," The auburn haired one said, flashing her a smile.

She smiled back as she stepped up to the table. "Morning. Whatever you two want… It's on the house, alright?" She said quietly.

Both men looked up from the menus in surprise. "Excuse me?" The blonde one asked suspiciously.

"Anything you men want, you just ask. It's on the house," She repeated. "My way of sayin' thank you for what you did for your country."

The taller of the two men put down his menu, and finally gave her a good look. "What if I wanted to ask you out to dinner and a movie at the drive in later?" He asked slyly.

Gemma shrugged, a cheeky smile on her face. "With that bike, guess I'll have to let you know when I see what the weather is."

The two laughed, and the blonde coughed, and excused himself to the restroom.

"Your buddy always that subtle?" She asked, still smiling.

"Nah. Usually he's more obvious. I'm John. John Teller," The man said, flashing that hundred watt smile at her again.

Gemma felt her heart flutter in her chest. "Gemma Maddock," She replied, fighting to keep her breathing even, and her face calm.

"Alright, Miss Maddock. What time is your shift done?"

"Six o'clock."

"Can I pick you up then?"

Gemma only hesitated a moment, before nodding. "I'd like that… John."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Alright, so, much less awkwardness here, or at least I think there is. Praying, hoping, begging, lol. So please, if it's better, lemme know. Anyways, I know I stretched credulity here, but... GO WITH IT, PEOPLE! lol. Also, please read the end notes.

* * *

><p>"Here, here, sit down," Nate said, easing his own aching bones into a lawn chair, indicating for Alex to do the same. "Would you like something to drink? I think we got some lemonade in the house."<p>

Alex sat stiffly, extending his left leg out in front of him, absently rubbing his knee. "No, thank you, Mr. Maddock."

Nate smiled, nodding. "Alright. So how're you doing?"

Alex shrugged uncomfortably, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Fine, I guess."

Nate chuckled. "Never a big talker, were you, son?"

For the first time, a smile played across the corners of Alex's lips. "Seems most times, talking got me in a lot of trouble."

Nate nodded understandingly, pursing his lips for a moment, before speaking again. "So uh… The hospital. Any permanent damage?"

Alex was silent for a few minutes, his face carefully neutral, as he spoke. "I uh… The… I mean… My..." He took a deep breath. "Yeah. There's some permanent damage."

With a sigh, Nate leaned back in the chair. "Alex… I know it's different. But I was… I was captured by the North Koreans, back when I served. Had me for three weeks. I know it's nothing compared to what you must have went through. But I'm probably the closest thing you'll find around here that might understand," He said slowly.

Alex coughed, shifting in his chair for a few seconds, before asking, "What about my folks?"

"They still live down in the trailer. Don't see 'em around too much anymore. Your ma is still working at the laundry mat, but she's in the back now."

"And George?"

Nate gave him a sympathetic look. "He lost his job down at the plant. Came in drunk one too many times, so they gave him the pink slip. That was about… Oh, must be about a year ago now. Far as I know, he never got another job."

"Did they… Did… did she tell 'em I was missin'?"

Nate shook his head. "Gemma didn't. But… I'm sorry, Alex, but Rose did. Hell, you know her; she told everybody."

Alex snorted. "Probably told 'em I went missin' while I was rapin' women, and killin' kids."

* * *

><p>"You know what?"<p>

Gemma grinned over the milkshake, one hand under her chin. "What's that, John?"

"I like you. A lot," John said with a chuckle.

Gemma laughed along with him, before taking another sip of the milkshake. "And why's that?" She asked after a few seconds,

"You're… You're simple, Gemma. Open. And it helps that you're one of the only people who haven't given me grief since I got back."

"Well… My daddy served in Korea. And…"

John frowned at the sad look that came over Gemma's face, and he reached his hand across the table, grabbing her small hand in his large one as he sighed. "I've seen that look. You look a little young to be married, so… Fiancé? Boyfriend?"

A sad smile appeared, as she bit her lip, pulling away from him a bit as she leaned back in the chair. "He uh… He'd been my best friend since we were kids. His parents were… not good," She said hesitantly. "I patched him up for almost ten years. And then one day… I dunno, I guess… His mom and her boyfriend had done something to push him over the edge, so he… upped his age, and joined the marines. Six months later, I… I got the knock on the door. MIA. The commander I talked to… He said the NVA had dropped a mortar on top of their position. Only one survivor. They uh… There were a few scattered pieces left, I guess, but nothing identifiable.

"I… I spent almost a year, hoping maybe it was a mistake. That maybe he was taken prisoner. Before I finally realized… He was dead either way. I'd never see him again."

She chuckled a little bit, as she pulled the necklace she was wearing out from underneath her shirt, revealing a thin, golden ring. "Apparently… He'd been planning on proposing when he got back. This was… It was in with his personal belongings they gave to me."

"Marines, huh? What battalion?" John asked softly.

"26th Regiment. Stationed at Khe Sanh."

John drew back, startled. "What years?"

"Spring of '68. Why?"

"What was his name?" John demanded, his eyes carefully blank, but his voice full of… Something, Gemma wasn't sure what.

"Alex. Alex Trager."

"Tig," John said quietly, his gaze going a million miles away.

"I'm sorry?" Gemma asked in confusion. "Tig?"

John bit his lip. "That's what we called him. Tig. Kid was a whiz with a welding torch."

"You… you knew him?" Gemma asked hoarsely, tears coming to her eyes. "You knew Alex?"

John nodded slowly. "Yeah. We were… We were both stationed on Khe Sanh Hill Proper, or Hill 881 North. He replaced a buddy of mine."

"Replaced?"

"My buddy went home in a body bag," John said bluntly. "And your boy was his replacement. I remember… He always used to talk about his girl back home. 'Bout how he was gonna marry her someday; give her the life she deserved and all that."

Gemma waited for him to continue, but after a few minutes of silence, she asked, "Were you there when… when…"

"When it happened? No. He was on patrol with a friend of mine though. Friend didn't make it out either. By the time we got there… That officer? He was right. Don't know how they did it, but the NVA dropped a 81cm mortar round smack dab on their head. I was… I was part of the crew, sent out to try and recover the bodies. The only guy we found was Mickey Mouse –Danny, I think his real name was. And he was… well, he was missing both legs, an arm, and half his head. He only lived about four months, before his folks pulled life support. We figured, he must have been taking a leak or something behind a tree, and that… that sheltered him from the blast a bit. Managed to crawl about thirty yards away from the area, where we found him. He was brain dead from the get go. We never really… The only way we knew what happened was 'cause the M29 mortar leaves a pretty distinctive mark."

* * *

><p>End Notes: The battles of Khe Sanh were real. What's now called the Siege of Khe Sanh lasted roughly a two and a half months. A little more than 6,000 American Marines held the Hills surrounding the Khe Sanh base against the NVA forces of nearly 20,000 men. By the time it was all over, the Americans retreated, leaving Khe Sanh to the NVA. The exact number of dead varies on which accounts you hear. The Siege itself claimed the lives of at least 205 marines; it's estimated that upwards of a thousand died at Khe Sanh in the three year period leading up to, during, and after the Siege. Both sides agree to at least 5,500 dead NVA, and Viet Cong soldiers. Most accounts and data list that number as much higher, closer to ten, or even fifteen thousand.<p>

_For all that died, or were wounded in the hills surrounding Khe Sanh. We owe you our freedom._


End file.
